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These Small Hours

Chapter Text

The cold was no longer nipping at your nose as much as it was trying to take full on chunks out of it. As what was supposed to be a quick salt and burn had quickly turned into a long and arduous trek through a graveyard which didn't seem to keep track of its dead. Not the first time it would happen and not the last, but when it happened in the middle of a cold winter night in arguably the coldest state out there- it really started to get to you.

Sam had wandered off after tensions had begun to rise, everyone getting fed up of the seemingly never-ending rows of graves, and you could just about make out his flashlight waving about in the distance. That left Dean and you together which you were perfectly fine with, and not just because you didn't fancy the idea of wandering around in the dark by yourself.

"Got half a mind to burn this whole place to the ground," muttered Dean, his own flashlight moving in quick arcs, eager to leave no doubt. "Two goddamn hours in this hellhole is two too many."

"At least it would be warmer," you agreed absentmindedly, rubbing your arms in an ultimately pointless effort to gain back some body heat.

Dean paused his efforts to look back at you, taking note that you were beginning to shiver quite a bit and with a cold breeze beginning to pick up now it was only going to get colder. Of course he was quite cold as well, but when you spend most of your life doing things like this you learn pretty fast to tough it through. You were pretty new to it however, and he hated seeing you miserable over what was supposed to be a five minute job.

"You can head back to the car if you want," he suggested, already digging through his pockets for the keys. "Me and Sam can handle this part."

Walk back through this creepy and miserable graveyard? Alone? No thank you. You shook your head, willing yourself to warm up. No amount of cold could change your mind on that.

"I'm fine for now," you said in response to his raised eyebrow. "It's better in the long run if we just wrap this up anyway."

If you were going to become a hunter you would have to do it all- good and bad. Even if the bad was likely to cost you a few fingers at this rate.You wanted to prove to Dean that you were more than capable of handling this. You wanted him to be proud of you.

Luckily a shout from Sam stopped whatever argument he was about to bring out. It looked like there was an end in sight to this disaster of a night.

You began to make your way over to the now very distant flashlight when you noticed Dean was taking off his jacket. Opening your mouth to ask him what he was doing- was this that weird hypothermia thing? You were surprised as he held it out for you to put on.

"We've still gotta dig this sucker up and if the grounds as frozen as I think it is this may take a while," he explained as your cold-addled brain tried to catch up. "And if you're pretty damn set on sticking around then we need to keep you warm- Sammy will throw a fit if you lose some fingers."

You let him put it on you and revelled in the remaining heat clinging to it, the size of it covering you much more nicely than your own. And if you also revelled in the scent of Dean attached, well- that was your own secret.

Chapter Text

You gave a low huff to your reflection as your hair continued to refuse to cooperate. Normally you'd be content to let it be, but this was one of the few occasions were you had to look at least semi-presentable. So you stood in the bathroom, glaring into mirror as you genuinely considered just asking the boys to leave you out of this one. Nothing could be worth this amount of grooming, especially when your hair would end up a mess by the end of the night anyway. What was the point in putting this much pain and effort into it anyway? The boys wouldn't be.

But maybe that was the point. The only reason you were going was to keep Sam company at this awkward posh people social event, seeing as Dean would no doubt desert him to peruse the local delicacies. It wasn't what they had told you, but you had been around them long enough now to learn what they really meant. Plus it wasn't as if your little crush one the younger Winchester had gone unnoticed (by everyone but the clueless moose). So maybe the effort would be worth it if Sam noticed.

Another errant strand fell across your face.

On the other hand maybe this wasn't worth being noticed. It wasn't as if Sam didn't pay attention to you. You two were pretty close, spending a lot of time together alone whenever Dean was out on his ventures. Just the other day you had been binge-watching Netflix shows together in his room. The shows themselves weren't that great, but getting the chance to do something normal was something you seized with both hands.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.

"You done in there?" asked the mountain himself.

"Obviously not if the door is still closed," you answered, which seemed to be his cue to just walk on in. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself," he replied with a cheesy grin on his face. "Quit hogging the bathroom."

"You know there are other bathrooms," You pointed out as he stood behind you, running his fingers momentarily through his hair and having it just fall naturally into place. Show-off.

"Well I'm already here so..." He finished the sentence with a lazy shrug. "You look really good."

"You aren't getting forgiven," You replied even as your heart warmed at the compliment. The simple dress you had thrown on for the occasion seemed like a great choice.

Sam just kept on grinning as he seemed to find an endless list of things to fuss over. He must have been in a good mood for once even with the impending social event that would probably end up with even more cougars chasing him down. It was quite funny watching him panic as all the older women flocked to him, and quite annoying to watch the braver ones cop a feel.

You felt a little self-conscious about trying to prim and prep yourself in front of Sam, even if he was doing the same thing with his stupidly perfect hair.

"I'm going to cut your hair off."

"Why?" He looked confused and slightly concerned at the thought of someone violating his mane.

"Because," You began, turning around and running your fingers through his apparently silky perfect hair. "No-one should have hair like yours- it's a crime."

His cheeks flushed lightly even as you turned your attention back to the mirror, and your own hair.

 

Chapter Text

You had felt bad for Castiel, the angel being confined to rest while Sam and Dean tried to hunt down The Darkness. Spending too much time with the tower of self-hatred that was Dean Winchester seemed to have made him a lot more susceptible to the whole low self-esteem realm. Not that you had got away from it either. But after a hunt gone a bit wrong,you were left with a deep gash in your thigh that Cas was unable to heal with his current grace levels in the tank. Which in turn meant a load of unwarranted apologies from the angel whenever you so much as flinched at the pain.

Within a week, Sam and Dean were off on another hunt and you were left with Cas to entertain yourselves in their absence. A phone call to the brothers led to a whole new world for you to show him.

Netflix.

Scrolling through the shows to find something new and interesting to watch soon gave way to settling on a show you had grown to love and were eager to share with Cas.

Bojack Horseman was an animated show full of anthropomorphic animals drowning in depression, anger and bitterness. It wasn't really the thing you watched with a depressed angel, but maybe some of the more positive messages would reach him.

"I don't understand this obsession you humans have with making animals into people," was one of the first things out of his mouth, accompanied by that head tilt you couldn't help but find adorable.

You were both sat on Sams bed, after having gone through the younger Winchesters belongings in hopes of finding something to tease him about. Well, you had gone through his stuff while Cas had just sat there silently judging you and your bizarre method of manoeuvring around with your bad leg.

"Well they did it with this show because it's easier to see yourself in a horse person than it would be in a famous persons," you tried to explain, feeling defensive over this subject. Hoping he would drop the question.

As it turned out though that was the first of many questions regarding the show and you answered each one as best as you could.

Many episodes later and Cas seemed to be content for the moment to watch in silence. You were able to sit back and relax, leaning into Cas almost without realising. It had been a while since the two of you had just got to hang out and you had really missed the angels company. His bizarre socially awkward ways were just adorable and you would be lying if you didn't admit that just maybe you had a crush on him.

"Do people truly enjoy a show that contains so much misery?" His rough gravelly voice was pleasant to listen to as well, completely at odds with the blue-eyed mans features. "it seems odd to watch something like this for the purposes entertainment."

As though he hadn't been watching the show with a strong intensity,

"I mean it does have a lot of humour in it," You replied thoughtfully. "I think some people just appreciate a more realistic look at life- it makes for a more believable world and characters you can really root for."

The angel hmmed, going back to watching the show.

Sometimes you wondered if it was worth telling Castiel how you felt. Sometimes it felt like he might have a small crush on you,and others you would swear his feeling were for Dean. He was a hard man to read, an angel at that- he would live long after you had passed away. So other times you wondered if there was any point in trying to win his affections.

But as Cas leaned into you in turn you couldn't help holding onto that small grain of hope.

Chapter Text

Sam watched out of his peripheral vision as Dean continued his pacing, like those small cars that raced around and around the same track. Ever since you had gone out on a solo hunt (a simple salt and burn) he had been wandering around the bunker acting like you had gone to take on Lucifer in a 1v1. It would have been quite adorable if it weren't for the fact it was also incredibly annoying.So Sam buried his head in research and tried not to notice.

"She should have called by now."

A task that was proving quite impossible.

Dean stopped his pacing long enough to take the seat opposite his younger brother, jaw clenched and looking like he was planning on hitting something- which was fine as long as that something wasn't him or his laptop.

"What if the case wasn't as simple as we pegged it,"he continued, gesturing wildly. "How many times have we been on a case that turned out even more crazy."

"She would have called us then." Sam kept his gaze on the web-page he was pretending to read, something about urban legends in Wisconsin. "She's not nearly as reckless as us and it's only been a few hours anyway. Give her some time."

Unfortunately logic wasn't going to work on his brother it seemed. Sam suspected nothing short of running over to the next town and rescuing you from impending boredom was going to do it.

"Why did she even need to go solo? I could have gone with her." He could hear the pout in Deans voice.

Now Sam did take the time to look at his brother, noting how much he looked like a jilted lover. His crush on you was nothing new, and was in fact a welcome source of ammo for Sam who would tease his 'ladies man' of a brother  for acting like a school girl with a... well, with a crush.

"She just wanted a little time to herself." Sam had actually recommended it to you, after all you had spent more time running solo than you had with the brothers. Not that he would ever tell Dean that, not when his urge to punch something was so strong. "She's hunted a lot more dangerous things than ghosts you know."

Still pouting, Dean got up and resumed his pacing.

"But why? What's wrong with us?"

Well, Sam thought to himself, you are currently being an overbearing mother hen so there's that.

"Just relax," was what he said out loud, trying not to let his annoyance show on his face. "Why don't you call her if you are that worried- ask her how it's going."

"I'm not worried," scoffed Dean, folding his arms across his chest. "She's a big girl, she can handle herself."

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. This was going to be a long one.

Chapter Text

Sam and Dean Winchester were a big deal in hunters circles, after all they were the ones who stopped the Apocalypse (They also started it but that wasn't important) and the Leviathans, Eve- you name it. Everyone either wanted to be them or wanted to kill them and you had spent many an hour wishing you could be as great a hunter as they were.

That's not to say you were bad, in fact you were pretty damn good when it came to the regular stuff. You could deal with werewolves, vampires and the like with an ease that came from years of practice. But all those higher threats? You probably wouldn't have the tenacity to deal with that. Still, you did your job and you did it well.

One of your latest cases was determined to shake you though, which is why you found yourself visiting Bobby Singer. When you don't know quite what you're dealing with he was the man to help you out. Maybe you could have phoned, but it was no emergency and you were close enough that a quick detour wouldn't cause any problems. Plus you hadn't seen the grouch in a while now.

A couple of hours later and you were pulling into his yard, parking behind a black car sporting the classic chevy look. It was in pretty good condition for its likely age so probably not one of the many doomed to the junkyard- there must have been others visiting Bobby for his sage advice and cranky attitude. The car didn't belong to any of the hunters you knew, but it still managed to stir a sense of familiarity in you.

You weren't here to peruse cars though, shaking those thoughts from your head you walked up to the front door and knocked, picking up the chatter of voices inside. Bobby and two other men you mused, waiting for them to answer the door and smiling when Bobby's face appeared looking a little surprised.

"Well I'll be damned." He hugged you tightly and you reciprocated gladly. "It's good to see you again. It's been too damn long."

"It certainly has," you replied, trying to remember the last time you had seen him. A few years ago at least,

"I've actually got a couple of other visitors I'd like you to meet," he said even as he ushered you indoors. "They'd certainly like to meet you."

Meet you? You wondered who could be interested in meeting you- most hunters knew you and normal people outside that ring had no reason to. It didn't leave many options.

Following Bobby into the kitchen, you saw the answer was apparently two exceptionally tall and good-looking guys who looked at back you with the same look of wary interest. If this was some kind of weird arranged marriage you wouldn't say no.

"This is Sam and Dean Winchester,"said Bobby gesturing towards the giants as though there were two other people to confuse them with.

"Sam and Dean, this is-"

"I know who you are!" Interrupted the shorter one with a grin on his face, even as his brother hissed at him under his breath and identified him as Dean. "You're the one who single-handedly took out that vamps nest in Colorado. That was pretty awesome."

You were startled with that declaration- and not just because the Colorado thing had been one of the few hunts to become almost unmanageable with how out of hand it got. A disaster from start to finish, what was originally supposed to be only two or three vamps quickly turned into at least 20 or 30. It had required a good deal improvising and more than a few nights coated in crap to hide your scent from the many vamps still out there.

"Umm, yeah that's me," you answered, unsure how to react to this as you stood before two of the most- if not the most renowned hunters in the world. And one of them was looking at you like you were the one who had saved the world. "How did you hear about that?"

It was a well known fact that the Winchesters had dropped out of what little hunters circles they were in after a series of unfortunate deaths and attempted murders.

"Bobby told us," answered the taller brother- Sam then. "He talks a lot about you."

I turned to look at Bobby even as he disappeared out of sight. We were gonna have words later.

 

Chapter Text

The kitchen was your favourite part of the bunker. After years on the road, living off fast food and barely passable diner meals was alright for a short while but if you didn't get a home-cooked meal in you at some point you were going to riot. So over the following months you made it your mission to cook as much as you possibly could, much to the delight of the Winchester brothers. This led to all kinds of requests and suggestions from the boys including your current mission. Pie.

"You made pie before?" asked Dean, pressed against your back as you sorted out the ingredients. He'd named himself as your supervisor to make sure this pie came out perfect. You had answered that he enjoyed pie a little too much and suspected your boyfriend just wanted to get a little handsy.

"A couple of times," you answered, trying to pay attention to the recipe and not the hands wandering around your waist. "Apple, cherry-"

"Pecan?"

"I actually don't like pecan." You could sense the glare aimed at the back of your head. "But for you it will be made."

"You're the best," he groaned, placing a kiss on the side of your neck.

You hummed your agreement, tilting your head to allow him better access as you also tried to work with your restricted movement. It had been a while since you had done this so you stopped often to consult the recipe on your phone, half listening to his muttering as he nibbled at your skin. He really did like pie too much.

He continued to wind you up as you continued your work, not letting his hands off you even when you had to walk around or bend over. You asked him a couple of times to stop, but the smile on your face and the giggles only encouraged him to keep going. Eventually you were able to get the finished product into the oven and immediately afterwards were spun around to face Dean.

"You are so sexy when you make pie," he growled, kissing you heatedly. ""You should do this more often."

"If I do it again you  aren't allowed in the kitchen," you answered.

Dean pouted, fixing you with a mixed glare and puppy look.

"I can't get anything done with you slobbering all over me!"

"I'm not slobbering," he huffed, purposefully licking your face. To which you punched him lightly in the shoulder. He faked being hurt and licked you again in a different place.

"You like pie waaaay too much."

"I like you waaaaay too much." Dean kissed you again, nuzzling your cheek affectionately. "Think we've got time for some fun before it's done?"

In the end the pie came out a little burnt, but everyone agreed that is was pretty great. You did end up banning Dean from the kitchen after that though.

Chapter Text

"I just feel like I'm intruding," said Cas for about the thousandth time. 

"And how many times do I have to tell you that you aren't," Dean replied in turn for the thousandth time. Ever since they had got in the car his friend had been getting visibly more agitated as the journey went on. "Trust me when I say Bobby would be more annoyed if I just left you behind to mope."

His surrogate dad had indeed been very vocal about his anger when Dean had told him what had gone down the other day. It had in fact been his idea to invite Cas over for Thanksgiving and he would indeed be more than annoyed if he left his friend behind. Not that Dean had any plans on doing that, not after seeing how depressed he had been recentl

"I'm not mo- I would have been fine," Cas argued weakly, turning his head away to look out the window. "It wouldn't be the first Thanksgiving I have spent by myself and it wouldn't be my last either."

They'd been arguing in circles ever since they had first set off and nothing he said seemed to have any impact on how Cas was feeling. Maybe nothing would except finally arriving and seeing everyone was actually happy to have him there. He could introduce him to his little brother and they could bond over their shared geekiness. Actually...

"Did I ever tell you about the time my dad caught Sammy kissing another boy?" Dean watched as Cas whipped his head around to look at him in surprise. He obviously hadn't. "This was a while back when he was about thirteen or so. He never really made many friends so dad didn't think it was weird seeing him hang out with this one boy as much as he did. Anyway he came back one day and found them making out in the living room. He freaked out big time. I didn't see any of that, but as soon as dad started screaming I came out just in time to see Sams friend running out the front door like hellhounds were after him. I thought he had hurt my brother at first, especially when I saw him sitting there with tears running down his face and a big red mark on one of his cheeks."

"Your dad hit him?" Cas looked at him in disbelief. "That seems a bit extreme of a reaction."

So, thought Dean, is banning your son from coming home for the holidays because he confessed to liking dicks instead of boobs. Which was why they were doing this after all anyway- not that he wouldn't have loved to have Cas around before. The guy had been his best friend for a few years now and was practically family at this point.

"Well, dad was never really the same after mom died," he answered instead, feeling a little defensive. "And him and Sammy had started clashing a lot around that time. I'm kinda glad dad got rid of that kid- not cause of the whole bi thing, just because he was a bad influence on Sammy and a little jerk to top it."

Actually the kid had reminded him of himself when he was younger, which had made it even more disconcerting seeing Sammy so in to him. Why his brother couldn't date some nice guy like Cas was beyond him. Jessica had been a major improvement on that turd, but she had sadly passed away in a house fire not long after his brother had decided he was gonna propose to her. Ever since then his brother had been in a bit of a slump, dropping out of Stanford and just plodding along through life like he was just passing time until the big day arrived.

"It sounds like your brother has not had much luck," Cas commented warily, knowing how protective Dean could be over his brother. He'd filled Cas in on a lot of his life, always proud to tell people about his little brother.

"He thinks he's cursed," Dean answered with a sad smile.Their mom died when Sam was a baby, their dad passing away in a car crash later on and of course the whole Jessica thing. Their family didn't exactly have the happiest beginnings, but they'd had a whole lot of good happen as well- even if his brother couldn't really see it at the moment.

There was silence, even as the radio blared loudly there was still a silence that sank between them, until-

"I think I'll like getting to meet your brother." Cas sounded more sure of himself than he had in a while. "You've always seemed so proud of him."

"I am." Dean smiled as he thought about his little brother. The smile turned mischievous moments later. "And who knows, maybe you two will really hit it off."

Cas blushed as Dean wiggled his eyebrows it him, laughing at the way his friend stuttered excuses about not trying to get in Sams pants.

It wasn't a bad idea though, Dean thought to himself. Cas and Sam had a lot in common, so maybe a little playing cupid wouldn't hurt. After all, what was the worst that could happen? 

Chapter Text

You weren't sure how well thought through this plan was. 

After setting out the summoning ritual you found yourself hesitating at the last step. Sam and Dean had told you this was important, but they had also told you that the angel you were to summon was an asshole and had even traded in human souls for a bit. This Balthazar sounded like a dangerous angel to be messing with and even if he was friends with Cas... it wasn't like he was in the right mind at the moment. He wouldn't save you if this went wrong.

But Sam and Dean were relying on you to do this, and you couldn't let them down. Not again.

You took a deep breath and finished off the spell.

Nothing... Did you do it wrong?

Looking around you couldn't see any signs of an annoyed angel appearing to smite you. Perhaps you had got it wrong then, or he was simply ignoring you. Could an angel ignore a summons?

Seconds turned to minutes and you decided it wasn't going to work. Balthazar clearly wasn't interested in talking to-

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me..." The angel turned to look at you, cocking his head to the side in a very Cas-like manner. "Well hello there, you aren't one of the usual monkeys."

And he wasn't one of the usual angels.

You were used to seeing angels in all kinds of formal wear. They dressed like lawyers and usually acted as such- even Cas had been a bit of a... well, Dean had called him a holy tax accountant. This angel though...It was almost a suit, black trousers and jacket tailored to a tight fit. But instead of a nice shirt, he was wearing a grey top with a very low collar and quite honestly it suited him so well. He was a very... attractive angel, and he knew how to show it.

"So do what do I owe this call?" asked the angel, his eyes roaming over you as he spoke. "Have I been a bad boy?"

You felt your cheeks heating up as he smirked at you, leaning against the wall with his intent written clear across his actions.

"Sam and Dean asked-"

Balthazar scoffed. "Of course it's the Winchesters. They can't seem to keep their noses out of my business." There was real annoyance in his tone.

You weren't sure how to go about this. It was supposed to be a simple-ish request to get the angel to help them out with the whole Cas thing. If he really was Cas' friend then surely he would want to help him.

"Balthazar," You began and his gaze immediately snapped to you.

"Yes?" He purred.

"We need you to-" You were stopped by a finger suddenly pressed to your lips, Balthazar now standing directly in front of you.

"How about we save the shop talk until we've gotten to know each other a little better."

You blushed at the heated gaze he sent your way.

If it meant he would help, maybe it was just easier to go along with him.

Chapter Text

This was it. This was how you were going to die. All those times fighting against monsters and angels and demons, only for it to be this that kills you. A simple illness. How cruel were the fates, to kill you not with a bang but with a whimper. How cruel was this world.

"You aren't going to die," Sam said with a sigh. Evidently you had been speaking out loud. "You still are."

"This is it, Sam. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die. I love you, be good." You coughed violently, the room sent spinning yet again. It had been almost a week since you had come down with what Sam said was the flu, but you were pretty sure was something far more deadly like the the black death. Agree to disagree and all that. "And tell Dean I know he's not a hallucination and I'm not telling him where my Scooby-Doo DVDs are."

Sam made no comment, focusing instead on wiping down your forehead. He'd been sat with you for as much time as he could, which given the lack of hunts recently had been quite a lot and it was quite touching even though you were sure he was going to catch it next.

"I feel like shit," you continued. "You might have to put me out of my misery."

"Well you must be feeling a bit better since you're a lot chattier than you were," chuckled Sam, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. "I think we can avoid killing you."

Better? you'd been lying for about a week in your own sweat, feeling nauseous and dizzy and just about ready for death. Castiel was out of touch for the moment, so there had been no quick fix for this and no respite from Dean and his antics.

"No! I need you to kill me!" You protested, grabbing his hand. "I can't go on like this any more."

Sam smiled softly, leaning forward to place a light kiss on your lips. He still wasn't taking you seriously about wanting to die, instead saying you were just cute and letting you carry on in your suffering. If only Castiel would come back, he wouldn't leave you suffering like this. He would kill you.

"Cas isn't going to kill you either."

Godammit. You needed to stop talking out loud.

"Why can't you just put me out of my misery!"

You'd been trying to convince your boyfriend to kill you for a while no with no luck. He seemed to think this illness was something you would just get over. Well, you'd guess you'd just see how he felt about that when he was the one lying in this bed dying.

You glared at Sam, who just patted you lightly on the head. Stupid boyfriend thinking this is all some kind of joke, laughing at you as you were dying.

"You still aren't dying."

Chapter Text

You danced along to the music as you organised your latest purchases on the bookshelf. You’d been quite lucky recently, finding all kinds of books that were missing from your collection and even finally getting back that rare Italian witchcraft book borrowed by some hunters. You didn’t mind lending your collection out to hunters since it was for a good cause usually; you often found they weren’t the most reliable at giving them back sometimes though.

There was one hunter who had borrowed a book which listed all demons known to man and never returned it. When you’d called him about it you found out he was already on the other side of the country hunting this demon who’d killed his wife. You were annoyed at that; it was a hard book to get a hold of. The obsessive way he was going… he was probably going to end up dead and you’d never see it again.

It wasn’t that long ago you had been a hunter yourself. You were thrown into the world as many hunters were, allowed into the truth via a tragedy that left you with no way back to a normal life.

As time passed you realised that the hunter’s life wasn’t really for you and so you took a page out of a friend’s book setting up your little library. Nowadays hunters came to you from far and wide to ask for your help in identifying threats they were up against or to find a handy little spell to help them out. It was a good change.

There was only one more book to place now and this one didn’t go on the bookshelf. Reputedly straight from 1600s Europe it was supposed to contain all matter of information surrounding the mass witch hunts that took place. This was not to be left out in the open where it could be taken by anyone and instead taken to your hidden library. There were a lot of bad people out there who could do all kinds of horror with some of the books you had. You couldn’t let another book like this be taken… not again.

A loud knocking made you jump.

Dean Winchester was standing at the window, waving a book around that you recalled having lent him a few days ago.

You felt your cheeks up a bit at your reaction, sliding the witch hunts book back into the box and putting it just out of sight. It would have to wait a few minutes while you answered the door.

Dean had made his way to the front door as you did and now stood there with that faux innocent smile that made you flush just a bit more.

“Came to return this,” he said, holding out the book for you to take.

“Did it help at all?” You asked, genuinely curious as you took it back. His brother Sam had sent him here with instructions on what to look for, but Dean didn’t seem to understand half of what it was. We’d spent the better back of an hour looking through the collection for something that fit Sam’s weirdly specific orders.

“I think it did.” Dean scratched at the back of his head. “The thing is dead anyway.”

You hoped ‘the thing’ meant whatever monster he had been hunting this time.

“Say, you don’t have anything on angels, do you?”

You blinked. You’d been expecting him to hand back the book and go. Every hunter who bagged what they were hunting was always eager to leave town and get back to wherever it was they normally resided. No-one ever wanted to visit again.

“I… think I might? I’ll have run a check,” you answered after a moment. “You’ll probably have to come in for a bit again. Not in a rush I hope?”

Dean smiled brightly.

“Not at all.”

Chapter Text

The clouds that had been gathering overhead for the past few hours released their torrent as Dean was forced to pull the car over, finally ready to admit he as just a bit more lost than he had been letting on. Thunder rumbled overhead with a deepness reminiscent of a great growling beast and you could swear you had even felt the car shudder from the volume.

Dean paid no mind to it as he searched through the glove compartment for a relevant map, no doubt happy Sam was not here to lecture him about getting GPS again. There had been a few arguments about things being attached to his baby.

“Why are we going to the middle of nowhere again?” he asked as you peered out the windscreen to spot any of the lightning sure to occur. You had a deep love of storms.

“Because there may or may not be a ghoul terrorising the middle of nowhere,” you answered, deciding to climb into the backseat. “And you may or may not have been annoying Sam with your constant pacing.”

Dean watched you clambering over the seats with an expression like that of a priest watching someone defecate in the holy water. He made no moves to stop you however and you were soon lying comfortably on the backseat, listening to the relaxing sounds of rain falling on the roof and ignoring the burning gaze of Dean.

“What did you do that for?” He asked, his mission for a map paused in the face of this indignity.

“I wanted to be in the backseat,” you answered, aware that there was no real danger in Dean’s grumpiness. A lesson you had learned after spending many months fearing for your life for even touching the car.

“Then why didn’t you get out of the car and walk around?” he asked, making a circular motion.

You in turn motioned to the torrential downpour outside. Aware that if you had indeed done that, you would not only have gotten soaking wet but also gotten the interior of the car wet and as such still the recipient of one of Deans lectures.

“Could’ve just stayed in the front,” he grumbled. He had resumed shuffling through the maps though, so you knew the danger had passed.

“No room to lay down,” you pointed out. Even if the maps were not being chucked onto the seat, you didn’t think Dean would appreciate you just laying on his lap. No matter how often he would wink or flirt, you knew it was just his way of making you laugh. A bit of a shame since he was the kind of guy you wouldn’t mind showing off. Plus, you were fairly sure he and Castiel had something going on between them.

The sounds of the storm overhead combined with those of numerous maps being moved about was very relaxing and you could feel yourself drifting off. It had been a long couple of weeks waiting for something to happen. After spending months fighting monster after monster without a break, having a sudden drop into peace was unsettling and everyone had been tense. Sam was using this time as a chance to brush up on some lore while Dean had been stalking about the base like a tiger in captivity.

“I’m beginning to think this place doesn’t exist,” Dean said after a few more minutes, chucking the maps back and running his hands through his hair. “Might just drive till we find a sign or some kind of diner.”

You weren’t too concerned about timeliness. The case was more of a reason to get Dean some fresh air than actually hunting something, and it was more than likely there was no ghoul. Never turn down a chance for a nice road trip though.

“No burgers.”

You could imagine the look on Deans face.

“Burgers are the best,” he protested, right on cue.

“Not when you’ve had nothing but burgers,” you pointed out. A bit of an exaggeration but you certainly had been indulging in a lot of burgers recently thanks to Deans constant pestering.

“How about pizza?”

You thought about it.

“Pizza sounds good.”